


Steady, Spaceman

by PolarisNebula



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Neglect, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarisNebula/pseuds/PolarisNebula
Summary: John's back from Five. Being busy can lead to self-neglect and John isn't feeling quite himself. A Tracy brothers one-shot sickfic.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Steady, Spaceman

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing in the Thunderbirds world belongs to me. Sadly.

Months in space takes a toll and 9.81m/s² can feel incredibly heavy. Almost as soon as he stepped off of Thunderbird 3, John could feel the exhaustion overtaking him. On the lift from the cockpit to the hangar floor, John clutched the metal rail ever so slightly more than maybe should have been necessary. Alan was aware of John’s unsteadiness but didn’t say anything, keen to give John his space. He’d get enough mothering from Scott as soon as they hit the ground.

Over the rail, John could see Virgil waiting for him, no doubt to check him over, assess how much weight he’d lost this time. He wanted to wave in acknowledgement but found that holding the rail was a little more necessary than he’d thought. He pitched slightly onto the balls on his feet before correcting himself. Noting his pale face and the thin sheen of sweat that was covering his brother’s face, Alan put an arm out to steady him, which John immediately shrugged off.

“I’m good, I’m fine,” John told his younger brother, putting a hand up. “You need to prioritise sorting yourself out and getting back up there. You know I don’t like to leave Thunderbird 5 unmanned for long.”

Alan rolled his eyes slightly. John was often in “Professional Mode” for a while after returning Earth-side. It would take a time to regain both his humour and his feet.

The lift stopped with a jolt and Alan unhitched the gate, indicating that John should go first. John reached down to pick up his bag and found himself stumbling again. Virgil rushed forward and put steadying hands on John’s shoulders, as Alan reached to grab him from behind. Sandwiched between two of his brothers, John breathed heavily and closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Virgil’s shoulder. “Woah, big brother,” Virgil murmured gently. “Let’s get you to the infirmary and get you looked over.”

John was about to disagree again when a wave of dizziness forced him down onto one knee. Crouching down until he was eye to eye with John, Virgil spoke to Alan, “Al, go get Scott for me, will you?” Alan shouldered John’s bag and hurried off, speaking softly into his communicator as he went. Virgil turned his attention back to John. “Do you think you can walk?”

John looked up and met his eyes. “I’m not sure. Probably. Maybe.” 

Virgil hooked his hands under John’s arms and heaved him up onto his feet. John’s brow creased and he grabbed onto Virgil, leaning on his younger brother hard. “Steady, spaceman,” Virgil soothed. His communicator crackled into life and he could hear Scott’s voice: “On my way.”

“Get your balance first, then we’ll move, OK?” Virgil spoke quietly to John, taking most of his weight. John nodded, unable to speak, his whole body shaking slightly as he concentrated on staying on his feet. Gritting his teeth, John raised his eyes and looked around. The hanger was spinning, blurring in and out of focus. He closed his eyes and focussed on getting his breathing under control. He could hear Virgil’s voice again but it felt a long way off and echoey, like he was in a long tunnel and he couldn’t quite make out the words. The crackle of the communicator again and footsteps, more voices in hushed tones and a cool hand on his hot forehead.

Then Scott’s firm and comforting tone, “Come on, John, let’s get you to bed.” And more hands on him helping him to stand, holding him firm and upright. John tried to concentrate on moving forward, on putting one foot in front of the other, but the faces around him were indistinct and hazy and dizziness was winning the battle. He felt darkness crowding at the edge of his vision and the last thing he remembered was Virgil’s shout and Scott’s arms around him as he crumpled in a heap on the hangar floor. 

\-----oo00oo------

John shifted his head ever so slightly against the soft, cool pillow. Feeling a sharp pain in his right hand, he reached over to alleviate it but another hand caught his and a voice said, “Leave it, John. It’s just a drip to rehydrate you.” Gordon. He clutched at Gordon’s hand, grasping it tightly. “Easy,” said Gordon, with a smile in his voice. “I could do without a broken hand.” The brothers lapsed in silence, Gordon’s thumb gently tracing small circles on John’s hand as John drifted back off to sleep.

\-----oo00oo------

“Absolutely not a chance that you would have beaten me! Seriously, dream on, big brother!” 

“You keep telling yourself that, Fish Boy, but we all know who would have been the winner if that call hadn’t come in.”

John could hear the softly spoken, good natured bickering between Gordon and Scott and laid quietly, listening to the familiar voices of his brothers and taking comfort in them. He felt a reassuring hand card through his hair, pausing on his forehead to check his temperature. John forced his eyes open, blinking in the sunlight, and looked around. Virgil was sat beside his bed, a sheaf of papers on his lap and a chewed pencil hanging out of his mouth. Over on the sunlit window seat, Gordon and Scott sat together, apparently disputing the outcome of a challenge that had taken place between them. 

“Hey there,” Virgil spoke softly. “How are you feeling?”

John went to speak but found that his throat was too dry to form words.

“Hang on,” Virgil said, and handed him a cup of water, which John took gratefully as Virgil helped him to sit up. Gordon bounded over to the bed with a big grin on his face.

“John!” Gordon all but yelled at his brother.

“Gordon, back off a bit, OK?” Virgil admonished his younger brother. “Give him some breathing space.” Gordon meekly perched on the end of the bed as John finished his water. Scott waited by the window, watching.

“How are you feeling?” Virgil busied himself, making a note of his brother’s blood pressure, oxygen saturation and heart rate.

“A bit rough,” John admitted.

“I’m not surprised,” said Virgil. “You’ve lost 15 pounds that you could ill-afford to lose, you were malnourished and severely dehydrated. You’ve not been taking care of yourself at all.”

John shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “It’s been a busy few months,” he admitted. “Not a lot of downtime.”

“I know that we’ve had an unprecedented amount of calls recently, but we can’t manage without you, John, and if you run yourself into the ground, you’re not helping anyone.” Scott crossed his arms and looked at his brother. “You should have told us that you were feeling overwhelmed. We’d have sent Alan to help.”

Again, John shrugged.

“OK, the time for reproach is later,” Virgil interjected, with a look at Scott. Scott raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Right now we need to get John back on his feet. John, do you feel like you can eat anything?”

John screwed up his nose sightly. “It’ll do you good,” Virgil cajoled.

“I can get you some chicken soup,” Gordon said eagerly. “Spiced with chilli and lemon, a la Gordon!”

John smiled at his little brother’s enthusiasm. “Where’s Alan?” he croaked, looking around.

“Back up on 5. And hopefully taking better care of himself than you managed to!” said Scott.

“Scott, what did I just say?” Virgil frowned at Scott.

“Nah, don’t worry, Virgil. He’s right,” John admitted. “I haven’t been coping well at all. I just didn’t know how to tell you guys. Everyone else seemed so busy and seemed to be managing. I kind of felt that I had to keep up. Sometimes up in 5, it’s hard to separate day from night and you just find yourself working through.”

“It’s fine, John,” Scott sat on the edge of the bed. “I should have realised. I should have noticed. I guess that I got too caught up in things down here.”

“OK, if we’re all done blaming ourselves and feeling guilty, I’m going to get some food, then I’m going for a swim and a nap,” Gordon announced.

“Your first three loves!” Scott observed drily.

“Nah, Scotty. My first three loves would be you, John and Virge. And my last love would be baby Alan.”

“Aw, Gordon,” John reached over and mussed his hair as Gordon ducked away and made for the door. 

“Although, to be fair, food does come a close fifth!” Gordon called over his shoulder as he made for the kitchen.

Virgil and John shared a smile as Scott raised his eyebrows. Some things never changed.


End file.
